Sophie B. Hawkins Is Mostly Persona Grata

SANTA ANA — Mick Jagger once declared, “It’s the singer, not the song,” suggesting that performance is what matters in pop, leaving the actual material a distant second. That philosophy has worked wonders for Madonna, but why not more so for Sophie B. Hawkins?

As a personality, Hawkins is easily more interesting than her music. During her performance at the Galaxy Concert Theatre in Santa Ana on Sunday, Hawkins was an energetic, almost hyper presence, singing smooth, unremarkable R&B-based; pop with a brassy flair.

Her aim, as always, was to be provocative, preaching sexual healing in songs that were sometimes suggestive, and usually about the endless pratfalls of romance.

She emerged at the Galaxy pounding a frenetic beat on an African drum squeezed between her legs, leaving the belt to her leather jeans unbuckled. Early in the 90-minute concert, Hawkins raised her left hand to reveal a bloodied finger and asked provocatively: “What do you think that says about me?”

Hawkins’ voice enjoys some husky range and power, but for an artist of her ability and professed ambition, the payoff falls short. On Sunday, melodies and musical ideas were more mundane than moving, with a few exceptions (such as the memorable, gospel-flavored lullaby of “As I Lay Me Down”).

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Behind her was a solid backing quartet that was still unable to uplift often anonymous material. The most redeeming element was Hawkins herself, who put nervous energy into every move, jumping with charming clumsiness between percussion to keyboards to guitar to xylophone.

By the time she performed “Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover,” the torrid Top-10 single from 1992 that launched her career, Hawkins was crawling desperately on the floor, stripped down to her tank-top and jeans. It was a dramatic image, but combined with otherwise lightweight material, it still left Hawkins with less than the sum of her parts.

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Opening act Billy Mann was like a throwback to the early-’70s singer-songwriters, with tunes of romance and social concerns that were earnest but didn’t cut very deep.

Introducing a song about a series of doomed relationships called “Killed by a Flower,” Mann jokingly said it was originally titled “My Pathetic Pattern.”

Backed with the simple chords of his acoustic guitar, Mann sang with a voice that was warm, soft and pleasant, given to moments of blissful high-pitched hosannas.